


in between love and pain

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Collars, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Masochism, M/M, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 11:31:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17765981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tyler has always been possessive but luckily, Jamie likes being owned.





	in between love and pain

The leather bites into Jamie’s neck as Tyler fits the collar into place, not tight enough to choke him, but tight enough that it’s impossible for Jamie to forget that it’s there. Tyler’s fingers are gentle as he straightens the buckle, smoothing his thumb across the leather and stainless steel. He exhales hard as Jamie meets his eyes and Tyler lets his fingers drop from the leather circle, down to Jamie’s collarbones, smoothing his hands across the skin there and enjoying the goosbumps that rise along Jamie’s chest, just above the low collar of his shirt.

Jamie shifts a little further away on the sofa and Tyler lets his hands fall away from Jamie, giving him space.

“Do you like it?” Tyler asks softly, and Jamie tugs his lip between his teeth.

Tyler likes the pink pressed into his cheeks, and the nervous flutter of his eyelashes. He likes the way Jamie’s hair, wet from the shower, is pushed back away from his face so Tyler can see the way Jamie’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. He likes the way Jamie’s neck looks so long and smooth and delicious underneath the collar, a drop of water from Jamie’s hair drips down and catches on the edge of it.

“I don’t know,” Jamie answers, digging his fingernails into his own pajama-clad thighs. “I’m not sure.”

“Think about it,” Tyler says. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it.”

“I didn’t say that I don’t like it. I just don’t know if I like it. Yet,” Jamie says, more insistently. He swallows, and the leather shifts across the tanned skin of his neck and Tyler feels heat pool in his stomach.

So, Tyler likes it. He’d known he would.

But it’s Jamie who has to wear it, and it’s Jamie who needs to decide what he thinks about it.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Tyler says. “There’s no hurry.” He reaches for the collar again, to take it off, but Jamie leans away from Tyler’s touch.

“Leave it,” Jamie says. He’s staring fixedly at the ground, and Tyler tilts his head to the side in questioning. “Just... leave it. I don’t hate it.”

“Okay,” Tyler says as Jamie uncurls his hands and stands. His pajama pants hang low on his hips, revealing tantalizing amounts of skin and hip bones. If it were earlier, Tyler probably would have leaned forward to suck bruises that would linger into that soft skin, might have dug his fingers into Jamie’s ass; Jamie’s erection rested swollen, against his jaw. Tyler might have made Jamie beg for the chance to suck him off.

But it's not earlier today, and they have to be up early in the morning for practice and they have a game. Jamie also looks anxious and scared, so Tyler just sighs and leans against the back of the couch, careful to keep his legs close together so that Jamie can’t see he’s hard. “Let’s go to sleep,” Tyler says again, and Jamie nods.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Jamie says, and disappears into Tyler's guestroom.

Tyler wonders if that's a bad sign or not.

Tyler tries to sleep too, but the image of black leather wrapped around Jamie’s neck is enough to curl his toes, so he jacks off as quietly as he can while Jamie snores in the room beside him. When he comes, he bites his lip hard enough that it bleeds, come spilling messy onto his soft cotton nightshirt, hips rising off the bed even though he tries to keep them flat.

*

In the morning, Jamie walks into the kitchen, his neck bare, refusing to meet Tyler’s eyes. Tyler figures that’s answer enough, so he tries to forget about the whole thing.

But as they head to the rink and finally take the ice, Tyler glances up at Jamie, for just a moment, and Jamie is looking straight at him, fingers pressed ever so lightly aganist his neck.

*

It starts before they even begin sleeping together. Tyler notices that Jamie enjoys it when he's possessive; it’s fortunate, because Tyler needs to keep the people he likes close, and he’s never much been good at sharing. (Even when he was a kid, he’d refused to share his toys. Tyler’s teacher had thought it was a problem, but Tyler’s mother had indulgently stroked his hair and told him it was okay to be selfish sometimes. If it was something he really wanted.)

It’s mostly just that Tylet thinks of certain people as his, and Jamie is one of those people.

Tyler had no idea how much Jamie liked being thought of as his, until one day when Tyler had wrapped greedy, possessive fingers around Jamie’s wrist, glaring at Rads when he had tried to squeeze in between them. Jamie’s breath had hitched, Tyler saw the flush of embarrassment crawl red and lovely down Jamie’s neck and spread across his chest.

That night, he cornered Jamie in the bathroom, kisseed him slow and sweet, and locked the door behind them. Jamie fucked him in the shower, face to face, with Tyler’s legs wrapped around his hips and his shoulder blades digging into the tile.

Jamie didn’t come until Tyler had whispered “You’re mine, now,” against the sweaty skin of his neck.

Later, Tyler saw Jamie lightly drawing his fingers across the bruises on his shoulders; where Tyler had grabbed him too hard. Tyler can see, clear as day, that Jamie likes those bruises. Wants them and craves them, even.

Jamie likes it when Tyler gets jealous, too. When Tyler pushes him up against the wall and tells him he how he hates it when Jamie touches anyone else. Jamie always whimpers when Tyler grinds their hips together, rough, right on the edge of too much.

Tyler adores that sound, wants to own that sound, just like he owns Jamie.

“It’s not normal, right?” Jamie had asked, gnawing on his kiss-swollen lower lip in concentration. “For it to be like this?” He hiccuped on the last word as Tyler’s thumb had circled the head of his cock, smearing precome down the underside when he slide back down.

“So?” Tyler said, voice low as he tightened his grip around Jamie's cock. Jamie had let out a husky little moan, and Tyler remembers speeding up a little, trying to see if he could earn another. It’s a sound that Jamie only makes for Tyler and was something else that Tyler likes. “It doesn’t matter.”

Tyler took Jamie all the way into his mouth, then; letting Jamie’s cock hit the back of his throat. Jamie’s fingers tightened in his hair and the way Jamie had stared down at him with parted lips and wild eyes, even belonged to Tyler.

Tyler doesn’t have to share this with anyone, and he likes that best of all.

So, when Tyler had picked out the collar, ordering it online from a specialty store, it’s because he thought it would look pretty around Jamie’s neck.

It’s because he thought Jamie would like it, just like how Jamie likes it when Tyler scratches his name into the small of Jamie’s back with his fingernails, hard enough that the red marks last for days.

*

Tyler convinces Jamie to stay the night with him. Tyler had stuck out his lip and pouted and Jamie had given in, the way he always does when Tyler asks for things with puppy dog eyes.

Tyler watches Jamie get ready for bed; the shift in the muscles of his forearms and torso as he changes into an old t-shirt, his thick thighs flexing as he pulls on a pair of sweats.

He looks soft and warm and Tyler wants to wreck him. Completely. Until he a mess of tears and he's begging to fuck Tyler.

But, he supposes that can wait.

Tyler slides up on the bed, fluffling the pillow and falling back into it with a sigh. He closes his eyes, folding his hands on top of his stomach as he stretches out his legs. A sinking feeling to his right tells him Jamie has sat down on the edge of his bed.

“Game felt long,” Tyler says, and when Jamie doesn’t answer, Tyler opens his eyes again.

Jamie is sitting there, flustered, eyes half-lidded with the collar around his neck. Tyler is suddenly a lot less interested in sleep. “Jamie?”

“I do. Like it,” Jamie says and the buckle is crooked, over to the left, so Tyler lifts his hands to fix it. Jamie shudders at the graze of Tyler’s nails. “I really, really like it.”

“Me too,” Tyler says, because he does.

He cherishes the image of Jamie with that piece of leather around his neck; it’s like a mark of ownership that says Jamie is something that Tyler owns. More than that, though, Tyler loves that Jamie even wants to be owned in the first place.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, nervously licking his lips, before he leans down and captures Tyler’s mouth. Tyler reaches out and grabs a fistful of Jamie’s shirt, dragging him closer. Jamie moans at the way Tyler isn’t nice, and isn’t careful. “Fuck, yeah.”

“You’re mine,” Tyler murmurs against Jamie’s pliant lips, running his tongue along the upper one in a caress. “Mine, mine, mine.” He bits down on Jamie's lower lip hard enough to draw blood, but Jamie just gasps.

His chest quivers beneath Tyler’s knuckles and he can feel Jamie’s cock, full and hard, against his stomach.

“Yes,” Jamie chokes out, his eyes slipping shut. Tyler smiles, licking a stripe along the upper edge of the collar, enjoying the way Jamie falls apart above him.

Tyler’s always been selfish, but Jamie has never seemed to mind. Tyler drags his hands up Jamie’s ribs, and kisses him again.


End file.
